


found the ocean just beyond those paper walls

by bartholomewrose, citadelofswords



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Established Relationship, Other, now featuring 110 percent more hair angst, this is the middle of a bigger story i haven't written yet why am i like this, yeah idk how to tag this it's mostly sad kids missing each other and smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bartholomewrose/pseuds/bartholomewrose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/citadelofswords/pseuds/citadelofswords
Summary: The thing about ruling a sprawling half an empire that they don’t tell you when you assume the title of Regent, Cassander thinks, is that you don’t get any time to your goddamn self.(or, sometimes you miss your friends and your partner so much they risk their lives to tell you to stop thinking so loudly)





	1. ship in port

**Author's Note:**

> apparently my brain does this thing where i don't write for six months and then i find a new ship and it goes "HERE HAVE SIX DIFFERENT AU IDEAS GO WILD" and i'm just like "... okay!"
> 
> in c/w continuity this _would_ take place after the september incident and contains some???? spoilers for things that are true after that fact, but nothing SUPER major. still, proceed with caution.
> 
> hello friends at the table i still do not claim to own your characters, nor do i own the radical face song whose lyrics i borrowed for the title (the ship in port)

The thing about ruling a sprawling half an empire that they don’t tell you when you assume the title of Regent, Cassander thinks, is that you don’t get any time to your goddamn self. It’s a lot of time being pulled in multiple directions all at once, being tailed by spies and bodyguards and adoring fans, eating alone but with the chefs watching to make sure no poison slipped past their watchful eyes— even reading in the library is a spectacle of multiple guards peeking round the corner of the stacks every five seconds.

It’s frustrating. More than frustrating— it’s infuriating. Cassander misses the days of the open sea, before they were asked to return to a crumbling palace in a stifling glass dome under the ocean and an empire whose borders continue to be preyed upon by Diasporan forces. They miss their crew— Aria singing at the bow and Mako harmonizing badly from the crow’s nest, AuDy steering them through hurricanes and rock formations and throwing Aria into Jacqui Green that one time when they made a particularly hazardous u-turn. They don’t care about this bullshit, this empire, that rejected them and turned them loose in a world that looked upon them with either fear or disdain. But they’re here. Stuck here, in this dumb palace, away from their dumb friends and their beautiful ship, and then on top of that they can never be alone. They have to keep pretending.

Fucking bullshit.

The only time Cassander gets to be alone is when they’re asleep. And even then, it’s only for a moment. They send the guards away, lock the door, throw the windows open, and curl into their bed, but when they dream they dream of the _Kingdom Come._ Cassander dreams of AuDy oiling the joints of their prosthetic gear-arm by firelight, face always just out of sight but with a sharp eye keeping watch over the sea; of Aria taking careful shots at birds and enemy ships, yelling ridiculous battle cries as she swings from the masts; of Mako’s hands flying as he tells a story that has Aria in stitches laughing as she passes a bottle across the fire to Cassander so they can take a drink.

Waking up from those dreams, which normally end with Mako turning on his side to gaze at Cassander with shining eyes, is hard enough on better days. When they have days like today, when they keep being told that war is imminent, that the Vanguard is getting feisty around their borders and they fear the Executive is planning to launch an attack, and all they want to do is tell them to _let her_ , so at least they can see their best friend again, well, Cassander sometimes wants to stay with their dreams forever.

But they must put Apostolos first, whether they want to or not. That’s the deal.

It’s one in the morning, around, when Cassander finally gets the guards away for the night. Only then can Cassander breathe, untangle themself from their stiff uniform and undo their braid, and sprawl inelegantly across their bed in nothing but a thin pair of trousers, being themself instead of Apokine for once in their fucking life.

 _Let sleep take me back to the Kingdom Come quickly_ , they think.

Cassander is just drifting off when they hear a tapping at the window. _Just a branch_ , they tell themself, but then it comes again, more insistent, and then there is a crunch like glass breaking and a hiss, and Cassander is instantly alert.

Their first thought is _Diaspora_ , and their second thought is _September_ , and they’re not sure what they’re expecting when they sit up with knife in hand but it’s certainly not Mako Trig, almost translucent against the dark wall of their window, grin gleaming in faint artifical streetlight.

“Mako!” Cassander hisses. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Mako says, moving from a crouch to sit on the window ledge, feet dangling. “Thought I’d drop by to say hello.”

He looks pretty good, in the deep purple and copper of the Rapid Evening, hair still neon pink and clashing horribly with the blue tones of his jacket. Cassander aches to see him again, bright and joyful in a way they haven’t seen anyone in Apostolos look since they got back, but this is the most dangerous thing Mako has ever done, more dangerous even than the time he tried to steer a Diasporan warship by himself. “You could be killed sneaking in here like this, what were you thinking?” Another thought occurs to Cassander and they drop their knife to the floor. "How did you even get into the city?"

“I’m, like, a spy, dude,” Mako says, and leans against the wall, grinning. “I’ve been tailing you for days, are you telling me you didn’t notice?”

Cassander didn’t. It hurts more than they expected, to know that they used to be able to tell when Mako was sneaking up on them and now they can’t even detect him somewhere he doesn’t belong.

“Yeah, the Evening wanted me to check in on you, so I did, and then I noticed you looked miserable, so I figured I’d drop in for a chat.”

“The Evening? Why the fuck does the Evening care what Apostolos does?”

“Uh, they don’t,” Mako says. “Not really. I don’t think. This is personal— apparently your sibling said something to Addax Dawn, who said something to me.”

“Goddamn it.” Sokrates is a good sibling, as far as siblings go, but they worry about Cassander more than they probably have any right to, seeing as they’re the reason why Cassander is in this position in the first place.

“You’re looking grey,” Mako says. “And tired as fuck, did I wake you up?”

Cassander shakes their head. They don’t think they can go to sleep now anyway, not if Mako is actually here, in the flesh. What dream can match up to this?

Mako swipes away some broken glass, off the window ledge to plummet four stories below them, and suddenly Cassander remembers the Diaspora and Oricon and _September_ , and Mako convulsing on a table in the _Kingdom Come_ , and why they all left the ship in the first place, and Cassander doesn’t want to do this but they also cannot stand to see Mako hurt again, and so they take a deep breath and steel themself against the heartbreak they are about to inflict, and push themself off the bed, to cross the room to tower over Mako, as imperiously as they dare. “You need to leave.”

Mako shrinks a little under Cassander’s glare. “I know,” he says, quietly, losing some of his joyfulness. “Can’t I stay for a little bit?”

“No, Mako,” Cassander says. “It’s— you _need_ to leave.”

“I wanted to see you,” Mako says, eyebrows coming together, and Cassander clenches their fists because they don’t want Mako to cry but they also need him to go. “Didn’t you want to see me?”

The wrong way to do this, Cassander thinks, is to break Mako’s heart, but that’s probably the best way to get him to leave and not come back. And they need him to leave and not come back, if they want him to be safe. That’s the most logical course of action. “I don’t,” they say.

“Cass,” Mako says, and Cassander can feel themself wilt. _Fuck_ , but it’s been a long time since anyone called them that. “You’re lying. I can always tell when you’re lying. Tell me you wanted to see me.”

“I— I can’t say that,” Cassander says, through gritted teeth, stopping themself from reaching out to take Mako by the shoulders. Mako catches the clench in their jaw and narrows his eyes.

“Tell me it’s okay for me to be here.”

“I can’t say that— Mako—,”

“Tell me,” Mako says, “that you don’t love me, Cass,” and all of Cass’s resolve breaks under the steel and the heartbreak in Mako’s eyes, because that’s the one thing that they can never say.

“I can’t say that,” Cass says, barely a whisper, and they have a moment of seeing the relief spread across Mako’s face before he’s stretched up to kiss them, hard and sloppy and _good_ , and Cass takes Mako’s face in their hands and kisses back.

All at once it’s like being back on the _Kingdom Come_ , the first time, fumbling in near-darkness after drinking one too many bottles of rum. Most of the night was lost to the alcohol but they can clearly remember Mako, on their lap, trapping them against their chair, fingers untangling their carefully crafted braid as he bit bruises into Cass’s neck. The feeling of newness is gone, but the urgency is all too familiar.

It’s like no time at all has passed since they last saw each other, even though Cass is feeling heavy under the weight of Apostolos and Mako looks thinner than Cass has ever seen him. Mako still kisses the same way, still grins against Cass’s mouth when Cass make a particularly good noise, still melts when Cass winds their fingers into his hair, which is still as soft as ever.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Mako whispers, when they pull apart to take a breath. “I thought you were being serious for a second there.”

“I was trying to be,” Cass says, and Mako starts to kiss a line along Cass’s jaw. “I was trying to, to keep you safe. _Mako_.”

“You have a bad way of going about that,” Mako laughs, and bites at Cass’s neck so they let out a little gasp. "Don't do that to me again, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Cass whispers, defeated, and Mako kisses them again, winding his fingers into their hair where it curls around their shoulders.

Cass wants nothing more than to wrap him up in their arms and never let him go again, but it’s too dangerous. So they pull away, straighten up so they're mostly out of Mako's reach, and say, “Mako, seriously, you need to leave.”

“Ugh,” Mako says, and leans forwards to press his lips to Cass’s bare chest. “C’mon, I thought I got you there.”

“Not quite,” Cass says, voice a little unsteady as Mako runs his fingers up and down their sides. “Maybe a little. But it's not safe. Not even for a spy."

“Even a very good spy?” Mako asks, digging in a little bit, just enough to make Cass lose their breath for a moment.

“Especially for a very good spy,” Cass says. “Especially now.”

Mako is very quiet for a long moment. He just looks up at Cass, and Cass looks down at him. Cass hates to send him away, especially like this, but Mako really _really_ cannot be seen here.

Mako sighs and stands up, so he can reach for Cass’s face, trace the worry lines where they're starting to deepen around their eyes and mouth. “Come with me,” he says.

Cass chokes. “I’m sorry?”

“Not for good,” Mako says quickly. “For tonight. One night— come down to the beach with me. Get out of here and just be with me. Please?"

Cass wants to so badly that they have to close their eyes so they won’t see how Mako’s face will fall when they say no. “I want to, believe me I want to, but I can’t.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of _me_ ,” Cass says. “Things are too volatile right now, with the Vanguard and the Evening, apparently, and Minerva’s making moves down in the south. I can’t hide as easily as you can, Mako— people are gonna recognize the Apokine no matter what I do.” Something bumps against Cass’ forehead, and when they open their eyes Mako is leaning up against them, noses brushing, looking sad but understanding. “Maybe once everything has quieted down,” they say, just to try and make it better. “If we can negotiate something with Grace’s forces, or maybe if Godlove can get something negotiated with September, and we can all breathe easy here.”

“Yeah,” Mako says. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Hey, maybe I can talk to Orth? I know lots about September.”

And _oh_ , if that doesn’t just bring back the worst memories. Cass sucks in a sharp breath and grabs Mako by the shoulders. “Don’t put yourself at unnecessary risk,” they plead. “I don’t want to walk into a room to see you half-dead on a table ever again.”

“Relax,” Mako says, and there’s a spark of that familiar zeal in his eyes, that makes Cass wrap their arms around him and hold him close. “I’m not planning on almost dying anytime soon.”

They stand there in an embrace for a long time, and then something creaks outside Cass’s room and they shove Mako behind them and whirl for the door.

Nothing happens.

There’s a moment of stillness, while they wait to see if anything else moves outside, and then Cassander lets out a breath and turns back to Mako, who's staring up at them in trepidation. “You need to go,” they say. “Seriously. It’s not safe.”

“Okay,” Mako says. “Okay, yeah, time to go. But promise me you’ll come down to the beach with me sometime.”

“Of course I will,” Cassander says. “When this blows over, of _course_ I will.”

“Good,” Mako says, grinning, and leans up for one last kiss, softer this time. Cassander smiles into it despite themself— Gods, they’ve missed this— and when Mako pulls away there’s a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” Cass says. It feels like they’re saying it for the first time all over again, in a quiet moment on the _Kingdom Come_ , when neither of them were really expecting it to slip out, let alone for Cass to be the one to say it first, and they’d just stood staring at each other in shock. It always feels like the first time. “Tell Aria I miss her. And AuDy, if you see them.”

“I will,” Mako says. “Anything you want to say to your favorite spy?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Cassander says, rolling their eyes. “Go. And stop following me.”

“Never,” Mako says, and backs away to the window. “Hey, wanna watch me do something cool?”

Cassander doesn’t get a chance to answer, because Mako’s already swung out onto the stone wall, and Cassander peers out the window (as far as they dare) to watch Mako hop down, stone by stone, until he somehow manages to vanish into the night, neon-bright hair and all.

Cassander misses him already.

Sleep is going to elude them tonight, they can just tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important notes about this au:  
> \- since neither rachel or i could imagine audy as a person, but i don't think there are androids/robots in this au, they just wear a big hat all the time so you can't see their face. might be wrong about this though. stay tuned.  
> \- since i don't think the divines are sentient, [austin walker voice] righteousness is probably just a big gun  
> \- this started out as "what if c/w but fantasy and not really magical" and quickly turned into something more steampunk and i PROMISE i will write something about audy SOON because they're gonna be the best thing about this au but... cass and mako... and making sure they got to be ridiculous and in love...  
> \- idk where the pirate stuff came from either it just seemed to. fit.
> 
> this is so self-indulgent forgive me. and also not... very... steampunky... like whatever i write for this au next will be super steampunky but i needed to get some feelings about these kids out before i went there? i'll call this a series once i have a second part tho
> 
> come yell at me to make sure i keep writing this au on twitter @citadelofswords or on the tumblr at citadelofswords
> 
> EDIT 10/15/17: RACHEL WROTE SAD CASS FIC FEAT. APOSTOLOSIAN BRAID HEADCANONS we're uploading it as the second chapter of this fic it's gonna be great y'all are gonna cry. also i absolutely retconned apostolos to be underwater, fight me


	2. old ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever thought it was a good idea to put Cass in charge has another thing coming. It’s their first day back, and already they’re having a crisis of loyalty. Over hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it's a prequel chapter because what is chronology
> 
> the first part of this (rachel's) takes place weeks or months before chapter 1. the second part (kales's) is much closer, almost immediately prior to their reunion.
> 
> chapter title inspired by "old ceremony" by matthew and the atlas

Whoever thought it was a good idea to put Cass in charge has another thing coming. It’s their first day back, and already they’re having a crisis of loyalty. Over _hair_.

Euanthe stands in the doorway to their suite of rooms (which are much too big, honestly, Cass misses their tiny bunk on the ship something fierce), and they manage to look both disdainful, and like they’re completely ready to start some drama, at the same time. Typical.

“You _can’t_ wear that,” they say to Cass.

Cass rolls their eyes and turns back to the mirror to finish weaving in their laurels. “I was under the impression that I had private rooms now? And my clothes are perfectly acceptable, thank you.” Cass was very careful, two hours ago, to dress themself as is appropriate for Apokine — adhering to tradition just enough to show that they respect, but are not loyal towards, the old empire. It was absolutely exhausting, and if Euanthe makes them change again, they’re going to burn their wardrobe down.

Euanthe grins, though, dropping the subject to tease them. “Well, I told your guard that I was just so _concerned_ for my sweet little sibling and wanted to make sure you were settling in alright. They let me right in.”

“I’m great, thanks,” Cass says flatly, around the pins in their mouth. “I’m so glad you came to check up on me.”

Euanthe’s grin fades to see Cass so bitter, and they turn to leave. They pause before they go, though, one hand on the doorknob. “Look,” they say. “I know that neither of us like how things turned out. I’m just saying… I’m here. If you want to talk.” When Cass only sighs, they slip out the door — and then pop back in. “Oh, and your clothes are fine. I was talking about your hair.” And they’re gone.

Their hair — ? Cass’s hands falter on their laurels. Laurels woven perfectly into a braided crown. Four strands.

Oh, shit.

They stand frozen in front of the mirror for a moment, feeling as if they’ve been punched in the stomach. They lower their hands slowly, eyes wide. Of course they can’t wear four strands, not _here_. It’s not like no one will notice that the new leader of Apostolos, come home after so many years, suddenly braids their hair differently. Fuck, when Sokrates left and Cass wore a fishtail out of spite, that was the hottest gossip for miles. No one could leave them alone about it, and that was when everyone knew what had happened — if they walk outside now with a four-strand braid, people will be talking about it in Ionias by sunset.

Cass knows that this could ruin their reputation. They would never come back from the disgrace. But for one brilliant, freeing second, they think, _I don’t care_ . The Chime is too important, they think defiantly. They refuse to lie to everyone they meet, they won’t leave their past behind again, they found a new family and Apostolos _can’t have it_.

Of course, that second passes quickly. Cass… Cass knows that they can’t do this. Never mind the political scandal; they can’t get the rest of the Chime tangled up in this life. Aria didn’t get out from under EarthHome to be picked apart by a royal court; Mako didn’t escape September to be a pawn for some other empire; and AuDy — AuDy would barely be allowed to be a person, here. Cass can’t let anyone find out about the Chime. They can’t let anyone even think to start looking.

Cass takes one last look at themself as they are, as they should be. Then they swallow hard, reach up with shaking hands, and begin to unravel their work.

It feels wrong. It feels like a betrayal, of the Chime but also of themself. Cass, like so many before them, has spent years defining their place in the world, their most personal connections, by the simple division of locks of hair. And with every smooth twist and rebellious curl that they slowly pull undone, Cass thinks, _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_.

Then it’s done. Their hair falls loose around their shoulders, framing red eyes and cheekbones blotched with color. Cass takes a deep, unsteady breath, and presses cold fingers to their face. The Apokine can’t be seen crying.

Not nearly enough time passes before they lift their head with resignation, try not to think, and part their hair once again. In three this time.

The old style comes back to them too easily. Their fingers still remember the rhythm of it, and it isn’t long before Cassander is tying off the end over their shoulder and checking reflexively for stray curls. It looks fine, of course. It looks the same as ever. It looks like Cassander Timaeus Berenice, as if they had never left.

Maybe they haven’t.

With a last glance in the mirror — eyes no longer red — Cassander flips the braid back over their shoulder, and starts out the door to find Euanthe. They need to have a discussion about privacy.

 

* * *

 

The first day Mako tails Cass, after they go their separate ways, it takes him almost a day to realize what's wrong about them.

Besides, of course, their expression. Cass's expressions used to range from "relaxed" to "tense" to "on the brink of losing their shit," but Mako has never seen them this _rigid_ before. Even in the early days of the Chime, when they didn't know how to function well as a crew together, there was always a softness to Cass's expression, a spring in their step. Now, when Mako sees them in the crowds, they look like the weight of the world has been cast onto their shoulders.

Sokrates had told Addax something was wrong, but the longer Mako follows Cass the more he realizes that they've looked this tense ever since they received the summons back to Apostolos, in the last week the Kingdom Come spent at sea. Mako hates that he didn't notice before.

But no. Mako doesn't realize what looks so wrong about Cass until the second day he follows them, when he realizes that he's never seen Cass wear a traditionally Apostolosian three-strand braid.

In fact, Mako has never seen Cass with three strands in their braid at all. When they first met, Cass was wearing their hair in a fishtail braid, their hair too short to do much of anything with. There was a turning point— Mako doesn't remember it super clearly but it definitely involved both Mako and Aria being shot in the process of a job— where Cass started wearing their hair in a four-strand braid, and then around the Cene job was when their hair was long enough to weave completely around their head. Mako had liked that look— liked how it made Cass look regal, even when they were mid-battle, disheveled and full of righteous anger. The first time he’d seen them like that, looking more like a god than a human, it had taken his breath away.

When Mako had asked Cass about it, the significance of the number of strands in their braid, Cass had looked at their hands and muttered something about family. A little bit of gin and a lot of coaxing had resulted in Addax telling him that the braids of Apostolosian royalty were intricate and meaningful, each strand representing the person's sibling or other family member in that generation.

The fishtail braid had been scandalous in Apostolos because it meant Cass had outright rejected their sibling after they had been exiled. This is _worse_. Mako knows it's probably because Cass is Apokine and needs to maintain appearances, but he still feels the rejection of the Chime like a blow to the chest.

Cass looks so different like this— older, wearier beyond their forty years, and Mako hates it. Mako hates it worse than the ticking he hears in his head sometimes when he's trying to sleep. Mako hates it worse than sleeping alone in a bed too big for him, without the sound of the sea or Cass’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

It's a week into tailing Cass when he makes up his mind and decides to scale the castle’s wall. He knows it's dangerous. Getting into the city unseen was hard enough, even overlooking the fact that it’s literally at the bottom of the sea. The knowledge of the presence of the Rapid Evening in Apostolos would be cause for scandal the likes of which Cass would likely not recover from, and for an agent of the Evening to be caught in the rooms of the Apokine… well, that would be worse.

He doesn't care. He needs to see Cass. And he's pretty sure Cass needs to see him, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rachel: this is my first published work for f@tt and it's just me yelling about my own headcanons in someone else's au? thank u kales for developing the Hair Angst with me and letting me put it in your fic, working with u is great and i'm (almost) sorry i made u cry
> 
> (hi it's kales rachel is not at all sorry she's just saying that for the bit)


End file.
